


the silent possessive

by LeapAngstily



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: (However you decide to interpret it), A.C. Milan, Babies, Cliché A Week 2021, Dogs, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, fluff with underlying angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: “If her first word ends up being ‘doggo’ instead of ‘daddy’, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”Alessio’s dog adopts Riccardo’s child into his pack, forcing Riccardo to get over his dislike for animals.
Relationships: Riccardo Montolivo/Alessio Romagnoli
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	the silent possessive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [behzaintfunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/behzaintfunny/gifts), [ibarbourou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibarbourou/gifts).
  * Inspired by [If I go now, I'd look for another you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21587068) by [LeapAngstily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily). 



> Companion piece to _If I go now, I’d look for another you_ , but should work on its own. Yes, I spent the night writing this piece of self-indulgent therapy fluff instead of working on the last chapter. Dedicated to the two people I trust will appreciate it in any case.
> 
> Written as a fill for the second weekly theme of the [Cliché A Week 2021](https://montocalypse.tumblr.com/cliche-a-week) challenge.

Riccardo doesn’t dislike dogs, no matter what Alessio claims.

His mom and brother are both allergic, so Riccardo never learned how to be around animals. That’s not the same as disliking them. He is just unused and never saw the point of rectifying the situation before Alessio took it upon himself to fix him.

After more than a year of listening to Alessio’s gushing, Riccardo finally meets Rocco and Carlotta when he first visits Alessio’s place. He is walking with crutches, his six-month-old in a carrier sling against his chest, and he has no idea what to do with the animals crowding his feet the moment he steps inside the apartment.

(Funny how these things work – you can get to know each other in training and talk to each other practically every day, either in person or over the phone, but it takes a serious injury before visiting one another becomes an option.)

Alessio dares to _laugh_ at his helpless look, before he ushers his dogs back into the living room and takes Mariam into his arms to give Riccardo a chance to remove his jacket and shoes.

A sideward glance gives Riccardo an image of Alessio gently murmuring something to his daughter. He catches, “We’re gonna make a dog person out of you, young lady, I promise you that,” and his chest fills with warmth even as his mouth protests the idea.

“Don’t go teaching her weird stuff. If her first word ends up being ‘doggo’ instead of ‘daddy’, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

Alessio barks out a laugh but keeps babbling to Mariam instead of acknowledging Riccardo’s _very serious_ threat. Riccardo finds himself smiling as he follows his friend into the living room, where he is immediately met by an excited Labrador retriever, as Carlotta returns to demand the attention she was denied earlier.

Carlotta is easy enough to get used to. She looks like Riccardo’s mental image of a dog, with friendly countenance and always smiling expression, and she parks herself next to the armchair when Riccardo sits down, poking him with her snout until he has no choice but to pet her tentatively.

Rocco, on the other hand, looks like a grumpy old man with massive jaws and clumsy gait.

Riccardo tenses instinctively, holding his breath when Alessio crouches down with Mariam and lets the bulldog sniff the baby. He lets out a barely audible sigh of relief when Mariam screeches in delight the moment she sees the dog, reaching a small hand toward his flat face.

Alessio’s warm brown eyes are on Riccardo’s, knowing smile on his lips, as the older man relaxes back into his seat and allows Carlotta to rest her head in his lap. He doesn’t say anything, though, only sits down on the floor and proceeds to teach Mariam how to pet Rocco’s huge, ugly head.

Riccardo finds himself stuck on the sight, his most precious person together with Alessio, who has always defied Riccardo’s attempts at defining him. Best friend doesn’t quite sit right, while teammate doesn’t even begin to cover it, so to Riccardo he is just Alessio. _His_ Alessio.

(He will never say the possessive out loud, but it is there in his head whenever he looks at his friend.)

As it turns out, Mariam’s first word a few months later is not ‘doggo’ but ‘ _mamma’_. Riccardo can breathe out another sigh of relief.

He isn’t half-surprised, though, when she first points at a random dog and exclaims ‘Rocco!’ as her fifth word or so. No amount of persuasion can convince her to say ‘ _cane_ ’ or ‘ _Hund_ ’ instead, and that’s how every dog Mariam meets becomes a _Rocco_ overnight.

Alessio gets a good laugh out of it, and even Cristina finds it cute rather than annoying – “She’ll grow out of it soon enough, my dear,” – so Riccardo has no choice but to give up.

It is a testament to how much time he and Mariam have spent at Alessio’s place over the course of his injury, either dog-sitting during Milan’s matches or just hanging out with Alessio when he is off duty.

Carlotta mostly stays in Nettuno with Alessio’s parents, in the big house where she grew up, so it makes sense Rocco has become Mariam’s only reference for the concept of dogs.

The bulldog, in turn, had accepted the small human as part of his pack without a moment’s hesitation, following Riccardo around the apartment whenever he tried to take his daughter with him, until he accepted the fact that it was completely safe to leave Mariam under Rocco’s watchful gaze while he cooked or trained his hurt knee or just killed time reading through Alessio’s bookcase.

(Alessio is yet to comment on Riccardo’s habit of leaving new books in the shelf. Either he thinks his books are multiplying on their own, or he simply doesn’t read enough to notice his bookcase has started filling up.)

“Your human might be an idiot,” Riccardo tells Rocco absentmindedly as he rearranges the books while waiting for Alessio to get home from a late Sunday match. He realizes he has picked up Alessio’s habit of talking to the dog only when the words are out of his mouth.

Rocco tilts his head, looking at him from his spot next to Mariam, who is understandably asleep at this hour. If Riccardo is being honest with himself, he actually finds the bulldog quite cute, even though he would never admit such a thing to Alessio. He has some pride left, after all.

“Don’t tell him I said that though,” Riccardo warns, walking over to the dog and his daughter, slumping on the couch next to them. “He might be an idiot but that’s how we like him, right?”

If Alessio was less of an idiot, he would probably realize Riccardo is an even bigger idiot for letting himself grow so attached to him. Alessio has become Riccardo’s safe haven during his months off the pitch, the only person around whom he can relax and let himself be vulnerable.

Rocco lets out a soft “woof,” and then he stretches and pats across the couch cushions, only to plant his thick butt against Riccardo’s thigh, eyes still trained on Mariam.

Riccardo chuckles and scratches the dog behind the ears. “Yeah, I know _you_ know. But let’s keep it our little secret, okay?”

He knows he cannot keep reaching out to Alessio for support forever, not when he can tell Alessio’s little crush on him is only growing stronger with each passing day. Riccardo feels like he is taking an advantage of Alessio’s infatuation, even though Alessio has never asked anything of him or even made his feelings known.

But even the thought of taking a step back, giving Alessio the space to spread his wings and fly away, feels like he is giving up a part of himself.

Rocco whines and pokes Riccardo’s hand with his snout, reminding him there are scratches to be given.

“I know, I know. I’m the biggest idiot of all,” Riccardo whispers as he resumes his petting, hand moving from Rocco’s ears to under his jaw. Rocco grunts in contentment and rests most of his weight against Riccardo’s side, eyes drooping.

Riccardo will wait until he is back in full training, and then he will do what he must, because he cannot keep holding Alessio back when he will never be able to give him what he truly wants and deserves.

His own loneliness is a small price to pay for Alessio’s happiness.

All he needs to do now is find the strength to let go.

* * *

(Alessio comes home to a pile of sleeping bodies.

Riccardo is lying on his back, one leg hanging off the side of the couch while the other is propped against the backrest. Mariam is cuddled against his chest, safely wrapped in the sling to make sure she doesn’t wake up and wander off. And Rocco is curled up in the free space between Riccardo’s legs, head rested on his thigh. He doesn’t even lift an ear to acknowledge his owner when he walks into the room.

“Not a dog person, my ass,” Alessio whispers as he takes a quilt and lays it over Riccardo and Mariam.

He knows he should wake Riccardo up and tell him to go home – his couch is comfy, but not ‘sleep through the night’ level of comfy – but the sight fills his body with familiar warmth and makes his chest ache in a way that makes it impossible to disturb them.

He pets Rocco’s head once before heading to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich and a cup of herbal tea.

Maybe he can convince Riccardo to eat something before he takes his daughter home to her own bed.)


End file.
